


Cozy

by Fatlockandfeeding



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fatlock, Humiliation, M/M, Weight Gain, fat appareciation, fat character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 00:42:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2249511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fatlockandfeeding/pseuds/Fatlockandfeeding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft and Greg have a spot of trouble with their bed...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cozy

Mycroft moaned as Gregory pressed heated kisses into his neck, tilting his chubby face backwards to give the man easier access to the soft flesh there. He gasped, and fumbled inside Greg’s pyjama bottoms, now several sizes larger than they had been when they were first together. His hand brushed against the underside of Greg’s ample belly, which was trembling with each laboured breath his lover took.   
  
"Mycroft," the man moaned, and Mycroft blushed when he felt Greg shoving up the soft shirt he’d taken to sleeping in rather than his usual pyjama tops with buttons, and grab at Mycroft’s own fat, making the man flush with humiliation and gasp with arousal both at once. Mycroft was the bigger of the two, although with the way Gregory was steadily piling on weight it didn’t look as though there would be much of a gap between their respective weights for much longer.   
  
"Look at you," Greg growled, hefting Mycroft’s overhang in his hand and gripping, hard, "look how you’ve let yourself go, Mycroft. You couldn’t diet yourself thin if you wanted to…"  
  
Mycroft let out an affronted sound and pressed both of Gregory’s shoulders down, until the man was lying flat on the bed, and then proceeded to climb on top of him, deliberately letting his heavy belly press into the man’s slightly smaller one, which elicited a needy little moan from Greg.  
  
"Neither could you," he purred, " _dearest_. Remember when this little game was just going to be me getting fatter for you?” He poked Greg’s soft chest, and grinned. “What. Happened?”  
  
Greg gasped and surged up, wrapping his chubby arms around as much of Mycroft’s thick waist as he could manage, and switched their positions quickly, throwing the man down on the bed.  
  
And that’s when Mycroft heard it. The Creak.   
  
"Greg -"  
  
But it was too late. Greg pressed down to push a bruising kiss onto his lover, and the bed creaked again, followed by a crashing sound as the wood of the legs splintered and buckled, sending the bed frame to the ground and jostling both Mycroft and Greg. Hard.   
  
Mycroft gasped and sat up quickly, wincing at the groan the bed produced at the movement, and then took Greg’s plump face in his hands when he saw the man’s shoulders shaking. “Greg? Gregory, love, are you alright? Are you hurt?”  
  
Greg’s shoulders continued to shake, and then he broke out into a full on belly laugh, every part of him jiggling against Mycroft as he did so. “W-we,” he was laughing so hard it was hard for him to speak, “we’re so fat we broke our bloody  _bed_ , Mycroft!” His laughter became louder as he lost control, and even Mycroft was softened, breaking out into quiet giggles himself.   
  
"We weren’t even having sex yet," he whispered conspiratorially, "we were just  _rolling around_ and we broke it!”  
  
They continued to laugh until both of them had quite exhausted their chuckles, and then both of them gingerly made their way off the broken bed. Mycroft tutted and shook his head.   
  
"That was a king-sized bed, Gregory. With a mahogany frame…" He pulled out his phone. "We’ll have to order a new one. Bigger. Specially made."  
  
"Reinforced," Greg added, nodding, scratching at the side of his huge, fat belly, "maybe steel or something." He smirked. "Because I don’t know about you, but I’m not planning on losing any of this any time soon."   
  
Mycroft scoffed as he held his phone to his ear, and rolled his eyes, walking over to Gregory and holding him close so that their guts pressed together. “Of course not, dear. Not when we’re having so much fun -Ah, Anthea. Do me a favour and put in that order I planned for a while ago.” He nodded. “Correct, yes. Emergency plan 678c. Yes, thank you.” He hung up the phone and wrapped his fleshy arms around Greg’s neck, leaning in close. “Our new bed should be here in three days,” he murmured.   
  
Greg laughed silently against him. “You had a plan in place in case this ever happened? Did you plan for us to break our bed, Myc?”   
  
Mycroft shook his head. “Of course not, darling. I’d planned to replace the bed before this ever happened. This just pushed the plans forward.” He sighed and looked at his lover. “We’ll have to sleep in the guest bed for now, dear. So no sex. That bed’s even weaker than ours was.”  
  
Greg blinked. “And smaller. It’s only a double, Mycroft.” He hefted Mycroft’s gut in his hands and jiggled it. “We’re not going to fit,  _fatty_.”  
  
Mycroft raised an amused eyebrow. “Well, you’ll just have to suck it in, won’t you darling?” He reached over and grabbed the ear plugs from his bed side table, before starting to waddle out of the bedroom. He’d had to start wearing ear plugs when Greg started to snore, his lover having gotten so fat that sleep apnea became a problem. Mycroft snored himself, but somehow Greg managed to sleep through it.   
  
When they reached the guest room Mycroft lowered himself gingerly onto the bed, and then threw back the covers for his lover, before putting his ear plugs in, smiling.  
  
"Come here," he murmured, holding out his arms, and he sighed happily as he felt the man’s fat sink against his. It wasn’t comfortable, exactly, because together they took up all of the bed, but it was cozy, and after not too long Mycroft fell asleep, snoring heavily, his gut rising and falling against Greg’s.   
  
He was awoken horribly, however, when Greg rolled over, and his lover’s heaving gut actually  _pushed_  Mycroft out of the bed, leaving him landing on the floor with a thud. Mycroft squawked, but true to form, Greg slept through any noise. Mycroft grimaced and sat up, rubbing at his back, and then pulled out his phone.  
  
 _Anthea, three days is unacceptable. Rush for tomorrow. Thank you. M  
_

Mycroft huffed and hauled himself to his feet, going to sleep on the couch.


End file.
